Now Or Never
by andinify
Summary: Operation: Taking down Circle of Cavan. Mission Objective 1: Rescuing/kidnapping Preston Winters from his evil father. Operative(s): McHenry, Morgan, Baxter, Sutton, Goode, Newman, Anderson. Recounted specifically by: Operative McHenry. First real mission, out in the world on their own, making up their own plans, gadgets, covers. Because after all, it's all about now or never.
1. One

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything except my imagination._

* * *

**Operation**:

Taking down Circle of Cavan.

**Mission Objective 1**:

Rescuing/kidnapping Preston Winters from his evil father.

**Operative**(s):

McHenry, Morgan, Baxter, Sutton, Goode, Newman, Anderson.

**Recounted specifically by**:

Operative McHenry.

* * *

After all the crap that has happened to Cammie—with the majority that involved several journals (along with some booby traps, exploding caves-slash-mountain-slash-scary-tomb and almost-dead experiences), I decided that it's time for me to start writing my own journal; seeing how important our paperworks and reports now is.

Let's begin with my real first mission. Not CoveOps mission, not a truth-or-dare mission, _real_ mission. One which included a little bit lying and manipulating and professionally hacking and also secretly using my parents' jet for our own advantage—not that they would notice anyway.

* * *

It's not the finals I was dreading. Not the Circle, at least not anymore. Not the very short limited amount of time we would later have. It was what lay afterwards.

As much as I hated to admit it, I was scared. Even one of the greatest spies-in-training like Cammie could get caught. But this time, we _could not_ fail. We wouldn't. Cammie was all on her own back then, while this time, we weren't. We had each other. And could there be any greater team than we already were? I had Cameron Morgan, Rebecca Baxter, Elizabeth Sutton, and Zachary Goode as my teammates. There couldn't be possibly something go wrong, could they?

Of course there could. In our world, anything could.

"I don't like lying to my mom. Or Abby. Or Mr. Solomon." Said someone with a small voice. As always, Cammie the too-self-conscious girl. She used to say—okay scratch that—always say, that she's nothing compared to us. Bex, who looks like an Egyptian goddess (I did read her journal after all), Liz that's so delicate and small and sweet as a pixie, Zach whose look can defeat the one Greek god Apollo has, and me: a supermodel.

I want to laugh everytime I remember this. Although honestly: I'm flattered. At least all I've done for my look (and all my girls' look too) has been paid off well.

She really needs to look at herself closely in the mirror, though. Fine, she might not look like Miranda Kerr who is totally gorgeous and no one would deny that, but still. Cammie is charismatic. She has an aura that draws people to her (both evil and good people), and who wouldn't say she doesn't have a quite good look? Look at her dirty blond hair (that I proudly dyed exactly the same shade as the real one), her warm rich brown eyes that sometimes change color due to her random emotions—which is totally awesome, by the way, if you ask me. Those are what make her beautiful in her own way. And it only needs a perfect hand to beutify her even more, which in this case: me.

"You're not lying," Zach strided forward then sat next to her, draping one arm around her shoulder.

"Yeah. We really are in my parents' mansion in Alps. And spend the night here, although just one night instead of the whole winter break." I continued for him.

Zach nodded in agreement, his eyes never left Cammie as she shifted nervously on her foot.

"Besides," Bex came up from behind me, half-serious, half-joking. "This isn't the first time you—we, breaking the rules, is it?"

At least, that got a smile out of her as Cammie snorted quietly. "Ha-ha. Sure, Bex."

I leaned back on my seat, gazing out to the endless blue sky that was starting to turn orange in the horizon, and the view beneath it outside the window. We're far up on Alps, our preparation place before we did everything we had all been waiting for: taking down the Circle. But first, mission rescuing-slash-kidnapping Preston Winters from his evil father awaited.

"Guys," Liz called out, her fingers did not even stop typing furiously on her keyboards. Yes, keyboard in plural, because she had two laptops facing her, excluding the touchpad she uses occasionally.

We all turned to her wordlessly, waiting for our dearest brain to talk. "There's gonna be a party in the embassy," she breathed. My eyebrows shot upward as Liz said the word 'party'. That could be our chance.

"What party?" Zach inquired, the gears in his head had already seemed to be working, calculating on whatever possible plans popping up on his mind.

"Annual winter kick-off party, or something like that. Held in two days, and with two days I mean the night after tomorrow night, oh and wait, I even got the guest list here," she paused, her fingers back on hitting the keyboard for a few more minutes as we waited. We know her well enough to know she was not finished. Yet.

"And Preston is so definitely going to be there." She finally said with a grin. Did I mention a mischievous gleam also glinting in her eyes?

"We can swoop in then," Zach said, his eyes having the same gleam as Liz's do. Catching on the hint, I see.

"And bam," Bex finished them with a satisfied smirk. "We got Preston."

Except nothing has ever to be as easy as it sounds. If there's something that seems easy, let me tell you: it won't be easy. At all.

I then noticed Cammie wasn't speaking up as well, up until she opened her mouth and dropped the bomb: "It's too easy," she said with a frown. Right, not literally a bomb, but at least she agreed with me.

"Of course not. We'll need disguises, some hacking into the guest list to add our cover names into it, some spying, then finding out the perfect time to swoop in. Oh, and there's also the term, 'get in get out', where the 'get out' part is easier to say than done." Bex said casually. Typical Bex, never take anything too seriously, despite how dangerous it actually is.

"Um, hey Zach," Liz suddenly spoke up again, her tone indicating something we wouldn't like. "You're right."

The said boy frowned to her from his spot next to Cammie, studying the embassy's blue print. "I always am."

Ignoring his cocky respond like Liz always does, she whispered—loud enough for us all to hear: "This place is like a fort."

Shit. "Which part? The size, the shape, or-" I was cut off before I could even finish my sentence.

"The security, Mace." She said again calmly. Way too calm for my own liking. Meaning: it's very bad. Liz would hyperventilate if things are bad, but she would be very calm, way calmer than she usually is if things are _very_ bad. It's the sign of when the gears in her head start working in full mode, spinning and spinning endlessly trying to work out how to solve the problem she's currently facing.

"There's some new security measures added just for this party. So that blue print," she pointed to the one spred out on the desk before Cammie and Zach. "Is not reliable, especially about the security details. Maybe for room locations, fire escapes, emergency exits, underground bunker and stuff, that can still be reliable enough. I mean, how much they could change in the matter of six months? But once again I tell you: do not rely on the security details in there."

See? It's not easy. Swooping in to a party, maybe literally crashing it too without knowing the security measures is equal as a suicide. Especially if the owner of the building is soon-to-be an international terrorist organization's brain. Right, maybe not really owns the building, since it's an embassy and all, but still: he's the one in charge there.

"Then what are we going to do?" I asked, already feeling like I was the lost one among all these ultimate soon-to-be professional spies I luckily call my best friends. After all, I was the one who gave them the idea of rescuing Preston. Maybe they once had that thought cross their mind, but still: I was the one who said it aloud. But here I was, not having any idea as to how were we going to continue this.

I mean, come on. The thought of seeing Preston, stuck in the middle of his family mess, then turns into somebody I'll eventually come to hate while I myself still have the time to prevent that, doesn't sit well in my stomach. So don't blame on me just yet, because, well, even without having to dwell on it long, I know it would be the biggest regret in my life.

Not if we got to save him first, of course.

"We'll figure something out," Zach, always the brain for being a more-experienced field agent than we were (apart from Cammie, of course) said in a soothing way.

"The party is two days away, Zach." Bex reminded him from across the room, gazing out the window like I did a short while ago.

"I know." Was all he say, already focusing back on the blue print in front of him, seemingly trying to guess what could possible be added if he were Samuel Winters.

"Got it!" Liz suddenly exclaimed excitedly, drawing back our attention to her. Her smile was so wide, I'd like it to keep her that way: secured behind her computer desk instead of out in the field. I've got Cammie and Bex and Zach to worry already once we're out of school and be the real spies we're going to be, I don't need Liz on that list too.

But as soon as her smile grew wider, it fell just as quickly. "This is not good," she breathes, her voice so small if we weren't spies I'm sure we wouldn't be able to hear it.

Bex came over and leaned on the back of Liz' chair, reading whatever it was on her screen, with Cammie close behind.

It was crowded already there, three persons reading the same screen, so Zach and I just waited for them to eventually spill what's in there.

"Bex? Not intending to underestimate you at all, alright, but with those kind of security measures, if we want to stick to our plan, you're gonna need some more back-up. Someone who has as much muscle as you do, if not more." Cammie said slowly as I watched her eyes sweep across the screen.

"And this," Liz gulped, glancing up at us nervously. "If we also stick to our plan on how our surveillance arrangement will be, well this kind of surveillance is at least a two-person work! As much as I hate to admit it, I can't do it alone. Well, perhaps I can, but that's surely going to take twice time longer than we already calculated before. Which is way, way more risky than it already is."

That quieted us down. We're outnumbered. Our team of five was still not enough, and we needed more people. Which, was not very easy given the time limit we have until the party, and our location we're currently staying in.

"So let me confirm it again. We need at least one more muscle, and one more brain, am I correct?" Zach said, breaking our thoughts.

"Yes, Zach. And wipe that smirk off your face before I do it myself." Cammie replied tiredly. Of all people in the room, I'm not going to argue if you say she's the most exhausted one. She might have said it numerous times that she's already fully recovered after her long journey in summer, then our next journey of looking for a piece of her mind across the world this fall... and now this?

I honestly kind of feel bad because of that.

"Aw, Cam. Do you not believe in me?" He says cheerfully, still unaffected by her hostile tone. Without waiting for her answer, he turned to me.

"Mace, can I borrow your phone?"

He's going to call for more help. But I knew already what Cammie would think about if he really was going to call the people I had in mind. "You are not calling Headmistress Morgan, Abby, Mr. Solomon, or even Townsend." I said firmly, locking my eyes with his.

He shrugged, "I'm not going to."

His pupils did not dilate, and his breathing seemed as steady as it was before. I had to give him credits for being an excellent liar if he's lying right now.

"If you're lying, you might successfully pull this off right now. But don't think you'll get away with it forever, Blackthorne Boy." I snarled.

"Hey, that's Cammie's only nickname for me. Don't ruin that." He retorted, albeit (secretly) playfully. I rolled my eyes at the sight of his not-so-official-girlfriend blushing on her spot.

He took my phone on the table, then dialed a series of number he seemed to have always in mind. Not so long after,

"Hey Cyber," he laughed after a while. "Yeah. Sorry, got a little bit busy lately. But I'll explain it later. Right now, I seriously need your and Soldier's help. Can you two make it to Rome tomorrow night?"

He's quiet for a few second before a grin broke through his face. "Cool. Meet us in the airport, can you? Yes. Private airport. Smartass you are, Cyber. Thanks a lot, by the way."

And he hung up. All my friends still seemed to have no idea as to who Cyber and Soldier are, but I had a guess already in mind.

"So," Cammie asked, dragging the vowel at the end. Zach raised his brows at her, signaling her he's listening as he set my phone down on its original place. "Who are Cyber and Soldier?"

See?

"You'll see tomorrow." He winked, then stretched out his hands with a yawn. "I'm tired. Just forget about it for a while. I assure you, your problems are solved. For now."

And by that, he walked out of the room nonchalantly, as if he owned the place.

Which he obviously didn't.

But for now, I let that pass, and decided to do as he told. After all, if this help he's getting mess things up, Zach himself was going to pay.

* * *

_**A/N: **__Okay, second attempt in Gallagher Girls. This been on my laptop for a while and I'd like to give it a try. Not going to be a multi-chapter story, though, perhaps four or five chapters at most. I've got the plotline laid out already so it should be quick. Now, should I continue or not?_

_P.s.: Sorry for the errors. This is unbeta-ed._


	2. Two

**_Disclaimer: _**_I do not own anything except my imagination._

**_A/N: _**_Pardon the mistakes, like I said, this is unbeta-ed so the mistakes are all mine._

* * *

When we landed in Rome, I couldn't say I was surprised to see our old acquaintances Grant Newman and Jonas Anderson, in driver's uniform, grinning like idiots they were in front of the limo I myself had hired for this particular mission. How they got their hands to that limo, I had not even the slightest idea.

"Grant?" Bex exclaimed in disbelief. Oh yeah, speaking of the old crush Bex nursed for this guy when the Blackthorne boys were in exchange to our school, and Liz whom I suspected (secretly) also had this tiny little crush on the brain named Jonas. I thought they're both over it, but seeing their expression: they obviously hadn't.

"Well, hello, British Girl." The said former guy winked at her, and I noticed the blush creeping up Bex's cheeks as she rolled her eyes. While out from the corner of my eyes, I saw Jonas greeted Liz shyly, and the latter greeted back just as shyly.

Ah, my innocent friends with their boys.

"Zach. They're from Blackthorne," I heard Cammie whisper silently. Not necessary, we all could hear it anyway. "Yeah, so? They're trustworthy, Cam. Don't worry. You've got your best friends, Gallagher Girl. I've got mine."

Fair enough, I thought.

"And do you really think Zach broke out of Blackthorne all by himself? Even a great spy needs great friends, too, you know." Grant added with a smile, didn't even seem to get offended even the slightest bit.

Mortified that she had been caught for having the slightest doubt about them, I saw Cam blushing furiously as she muttered an apology.

"Alright. Enough with the reunion. We don't have much time. Who's driving?" I said, pointing to the limo. Jonas waved his hand in the air. After we all agreed, he went to open the doors like a perfect gentleman; who of course letting Liz in first. To ride shotgun. Pretty bold, Liz.

Then that left Cammie, Zach, Bex, and Grant in the back seat where we normally seated, and me feeling like the fifth wheel. Not only the third, but fifth wheel.

"So," Jonas' head suddenly popped from the driver seat, seemingly had turned down the one-way glass that separated us from the front seats. "Care to explain, well, everything?"

I saw Zach was about to open his mouth, but I beat him to it. "Only if you promise to explain how did you get your hands on this limo." Curiosity got the best of me, I guess. Scratch the 'curiousity kills the cat' and such. I wanted to know.

Jonas and Grant laughed in unison. "We just manipulated your voice, Macey. And gave it to the driver who was driving like it was really you who was talking on the phone, and told him that no one other than us, her personal drivers are allowed to drive her. And don't ask where we got your voice to manipulate from. You were pretty much all over the television for a while during election campaign."

Made sense. "Okay. Zach, go ahead."

And he went on explaining the whole story—the short version of it—one that still took the whole trip to our hotel to finish.

* * *

"You said hotel, Mace." Cammie said from behind as we stepped into our hotel room.

"I did," I said casually, not seeing what's the big deal of booking a _suite_. It's still a hotel, right? Just bigger. I mean, we're going to go on mission together, better off to be in the same room. Easier to communicate with each other, not to mention that it's much safer to have seven spies in the same room than separately.

"But this isn't a hotel room," Jonas paused. "It's a freaking suite!"

"Just so it'll be easier to communicate with you guys, also safer to have seven spies in one room. Remember how hard it was to convince Ms. Morgan to bring Cammie along here without any agents following?" I told them with my hands on my hips. That got them to shut up and quit protesting.

We began to sweep the room for bugs—not that there could be possibly some, but just for precaution.

"Now that all's clear," Grant exclaimed as he clapped his his hands once we finished. "Spill the plan."

And that we did. We circled around the living room table, with the old blue print spred on it, and both of Liz's laptop sitting on one of the plush sofa while Cammie stood nearest to the table, ready to explain.

"This, is the exact map of the embassy six month ago. See the dates? Yeah. Now, there's going to be a party held in there tomorrow night. The problem as to why we needed more helps from you guys, is because Liz has found out about some of the security measures additions,"

"All of them, actually. I got access to the email of the Security Head in there, requesting all details of security Samuel himself wants to add due to this party." Liz cut her off. Oh, see over there? Jonas was staring awestruck.

Good news for my Lizzie.

"Right, all of them, thank God. And that Bex, originally in our plan is going to be the backup person, needs a little help, because despite how awesome you are Bex, this particular two layers of guards are not something you can face alone." Cammie continued, her eyes strayed to Grant, who's already puffing his chest.

"I'm ready."

"Who said anything about you?" Bex snapped just as quick. Here we go.

"Well, for starters, if you all just need a regular 'muscle', I'm sure you all just need to rearrange the plan, not adding people more." Grant shot back, did not even forget to add a quote gesture with his hand on the word _muscle_.

True. "Whatever," Bex rolled her eyes as she turned back to the table, (pretending) not caring anymore.

"We sure as hell can pull this off!" Grant said a little too excitedly, pumping his fist in the air, while draping another hand around Bex's shoulder—and earned an eye-roll from her. I noticed, though, Bex didn't make an attempt on freeing herself from Grant's arm. Inwardly, I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Sensing that Bex and Grant's little war was over, Cammie shrugged then continued, "well, also because Liz's surveillance job is a two-person job, that's why we need you, Jonas." She gestured to Jonas, who's already too caught up in scanning what was on Liz's laptop.

"Jonas?"

"Huh?" He snapped his head up, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. Just curious, what kind of guests that are going to attend? I mean, if it's just a regular party, one layer of guards is enough to disarm an intruder, I guess. Not to mention that if the guards are-"

"Trained assasins." Zach and Grant cut him off with flat expression. Right. Blackthorne Institute is supposed to train assassins. And three boys right here, were all ex-students of the said school which means...

"Okay." Cammie said after a while, slightly breathless and looking a little uncomfortable with the awkward silence.

"So Liz-"

"No, wait, Cam." She cut her off with wide eyes. "Charlene Dubois is going to be there," she said, her voice timid like a lost little girl.

"Elias Crane. The head of largest agrichemical corporation in the world is going to be there, too. What's his business in Rome?" Jonas also added, completely unknown to who that person really was.

Hearing those names, all of our eyes—except Grant's and Jonas'—widened in an instant. No way. This was an embassy party. Not a Circle gathering. Please, dear God.

"Mention all of those names. I think I remember seeing a lot of Circle members when I was away. Let's see if there are some that trigger my memory. And guys, check out if there is anymore _name_ we remember." Cammie said urgently, emphasizing on the word _name_. Right, the list she had showed us before—those who had all names of Circle's high officials.

And soon, Liz took turn with Jonas mentioning the guest on the list one by one. At first, none of us recognize the name; also proved by Cammie simply said over and over again, "No. Nope. No."

But as Jonas mentioned the unknownth name, was when Cammie started to seem somewhat off.

"Yes," she said quietly, her eyes glazed over. Liz, wordlessly marked the name 'Spencer Hunter' before she went on with the list.

There were a few more names that got Cammie obviously on edge, but not until it came closer to the end of the list when she began to lose it. "Yes. Yes. Yes."

Slowly, as she continued saying yes through ten names Liz and Jonas mention, Cammie started backing off until her back hit the wall.

"Damn it, Liz, Jonas, stop!" Zach roared as he caught Cammie before she hit the floor. In one blink of an eye, I dashed and was already on her side, supporting her to stand. Her eyes blinked furiously, as if she just came back from a trance.

"What is it, Cammie?" Zach asked once we'd seated her on the sofa.

"Some, some of them-" she began slowly. "Are the officials I remember took part in torturing me," she finished, choking on the last part.

This freaking hell of an organization was seriously going to pay for everything they'd done. But for now, Cammie couldn't risk of going in. Not yet.

"Then she can't come." Bex said, voicing the thought that just crossed my mind a split second earlier.

"What?" Cammie shouted, jumping on her feet in an instant. "No. No way in hell I'm not coming. Macey, you're a whiz with cosmetics. Surely you can put a cool disguise on me just fine, can't you? I'll take it. Anything you're going to do with me. I'll shut my mouth up the whole time you're dolling me up."

If only this was a different occasion, Cam, I'd be so thrilled to have you say that, I thought bitterly.

"No, Cam. I won't risk it. Even the greatest disguise has flaws. If there are many people who might recognize you there, I'm not going to do it. People who hate you tend to remember every single damn thing about you better than those who genuinely like you, even in disguise. Trust me."

She turned to Zach, probably looking for a backup. Too bad, if in an issue Cammie's safety is concerned, I'm pretty sure Zach is always going to be on the same side as I and Bex are.

He shrugged (see?) nonchalantly. "I have to agree with them."

* * *

That night ended with Cammie stalking out of the room, after her persuasive (and later some coercive one) speeches of still tagging along inside the embassy (in any way possible) were totally futile, especially since she was arguing it against four spies that had made up their minds.

Zach followed behind her, probably looking for an escape place or somewhere to hide, while the rest of us stayed behind.

"Do you really think we could pull this off?" Jonas asked to no one in particular. His eyes still even trained on two laptops (not Liz's, but his) in front of him, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Liz on the floor while working on God-knows-what.

"According to my estimation, seeing the percentage from Macey's ability in putting on disguises, Bex and Grant in defense, Zach and Cammie as the best pavement artists they are… I think we have 95% chance of successfully getting away with this." Liz said, always the most considerative one.

"And where is the other 5%?" Grant asked, a little cautiously. Liz looked up, then shrugged. "The Circle has great agents, too. Consider that 5% is the amount of their chances to screw up our plan."

5% is a great number.

"Aw, shit." Grant cursed, as Bex paced back and forth behind him.

Finally, she stopped, then turned to face all of us. "So let me recite it one more time. We go in with disguises, find Preston, tell him that he seriously needs to leave his family as soon as humanly possible, then get out. Right?"

All of us nodded. "And Macey, have you put the letter?"

Oh yeah, the letter. One that had everything people (who might be looking for us if we—God forbid—end up MIA) wanted to know regarding to our disappearances. I left that in the mansion, under the bottom of an upper drawer in my room, exactly where people would look for first, but not too obvious for people who might not have the right to read it.

"Sure. Right where we agreed to keep it."

Bex nodded, then the room went silent.

And right then, I _hated_ silence more than ever. It gave me this eerie feeling creeping up my spine, something that told me somehow, things would go wrong.

"Sorry, out of curiousity. Do you think kidnapping Preston in the brightly lit room, filled with people from a powerful international terrorist organization is effective? I mean, why don't we just slipped in to his room, and kidnap him in a way regular kidnappers work?" Jonas suddenly asked.

"Because," Bex paused, as all eyes landed on her. "When you want to do something unnoticed, do that in where everyone can see it."

When I say that all eyebrows were on their highest spot, I'm not kidding. No one bothered to ask where did Bex come up with that theory, though. Not even Jonas or Liz.

"Um, okay?" Jonas frowned. "But then how Preston will recognize us, then, if we're in disguise?" He asked again. Now that, I knew exactly the answer.

"Leave that to me."

He turned to me, blinked a few times before nodding. "O-kay? How about if he doesn't want to go, or he doesn't trust us? What if he thinks we're being delusional? I mean, it's his father. He probably doesn't know about this, but Samuel is still his father and Preston has been living with him since for_ever _and who are we to-"

"Jonas," Liz put her hand on his shoulder, stopping him mid-sentence. "Breathe," Liz ordered. Jonas complied, but then he turned back to us. "So?"

We're silent. I knew right then there were still so many loopholes in our plan, but there must be another way. I didn't think of that possibility, anyway. Jonas was right, what if Preston chose to not trust us and report us to his father instead?

"We track him down. Leave a tracker and bug and camera, and we'll watch him 24/7. That way, we won't lose him. At the same time, tracking down the Circle. Who knows if Samuel leaves some hints to his son? We could use that to our advantage." Grant spoke up, as we all stared at him, perplexed.

He snorted, "What? I _do _have a brain too, you know. Don't trust anything Zach said about me having an empty skull here." He tapped his head where his brain is supposed to be.

"I heard that!"

We all looked up to the second floor's balcony right above us, where Zach's voice came from and burst out laughing.

Grant rolled his eyes, "I thought you're asleep, lover boy!" He shouted.

"I'm a spy, brainless!"

"Man, quit insulting me I'm your best friend!"

"Sure," Zach called out, dragging the vowel with muffled voice. Soon, the banter stopped. Bex called it a night, followed by Grant whom I suspected did that because of Bex, Jonas and Liz shut down their laptops, and in a matter of short time, darkness engulfed the mansion altogether.

* * *

_**A/N: **__Okay, second chapter. I know there isn't many people reading this out there, but if you do, would you let me know what do you think? Or is there anything you want me to put in here? I'll gladly try to fit what you want! :)_


	3. Three

_**Disclaimer: **The mistakes and flaws in this story are all mine. Ally Carter does not write flawed story. Therefore, I do not own anything except for my flaws and imagination._

* * *

Leaving a sulking Cammie in the van with Liz and Jonas probably wasn't a great idea, but well, we didn't have a better choice. None of us would risk of her going in, in case someone there recognize her. I know I'm awesome in make-up and such (finally those ability in cosmetics could come in handy), but this time, I doubted it could work. Not when an international terrorist organization (how many have I said it already?) is going after you, not after they just finished torturing you, getting an information out of your head, and probably have your face glued to the biggest wall in their headquarters. (No, seriously, I'm not exaggerating here, Cammie herself told me a few weeks ago when some of her memory came back.)

And now here we were, walking into the US embassy party in Rome, going to kidnap the only son of the ambassador himself—whom unexpectedly was a terrorist. Okay scratch that, the _head _of evil terrorists.

Thank goodness Liz and Jonas finally succeeded into hacking the party guest list, and added our names in it. Now we're all clear to _enjoy _the party as long as we still could.

It was already crowded inside, Bex and Grant had gone first before me and Zach waltzed in, _hand-in-hand_ (a thousand times sorry Cam), sweeping our eyes across the room. Our coms buzzed with static for a few seconds, followed by Liz's signature _oopsie daisy_ as finally it became clear.

"Is it clear enough, guys?" Jonas.

Before I could answer, I heard Bex in my comms saying, "Oh, look, honey, it's real _crystal_!"

Leave it to Bex to tell our friends in the limo in such a dramatical way. Although I had to admit: I kind of suspect she enjoyed her cover being in Grant's arms more than any cover she had probably experienced before.

We glided and blended into the crowd smoothly, with Zach leading me around as if he knew the place like the back of his hand. I kept my gaze around, my contact lenses (which let me tell you, had been upgraded by Liz exactly like those Ethan Hunt/Tom Cruise got in his movies: had the ability to scan people's faces, connected to Jonas' database that contained all facial details of people in the guest list we should be aware of.) scanning faces around in lightning speed.

Several times the scanner light went red, and I had to resist a shudder as those people in Cammie's list popping up everywhere my eyes fell on.

"Let's go get some punch now, shall we, dear?" Zach cooed in perfect Italian accent next to me, nodding towards the next-to-empty food table. I nodded with a fake smile, then followed him as gracefully as possible. He handed me a glass of punch, then sipping one of his own.

Our eyes kept sweeping across the vast ballroom, all the while kept trying to look as casual as a couple in a party should be. I saw Bex and Grant were dancing near the center of the room, looking like a perfect happy couple as her eyes casually roamed around the room. People would only see that as a girl, a regular guest who was enjoying her time in a five-star party. If only they knew.

"The Subject. Peacock, Eagle. Eleven o'clock." Cammie said through our comms. Yes, she bargained her not coming in to the party with watching the surveillance. Both, through the cameras in the embassy Jonas and Liz managed to hack into, and several more hidden somewhere in the black and grey pearls adorning my and Bex's gown (oh, there were some in Zach's and Grant's suit buttons too). If we did not comply to her request, she threatened to go in herself. Well, surveillance would do way much better (and safer) than her going in, so, we gave her the job. Not to mention Liz and Jonas were more than happy to have more hands helping their job. After all, surveillance arrangement is never as easy as it sounds.

I waited until Zach turned his head in the direction Cammie had told us before I turned to look myself, just so it would not be too suspicious. And there he was, Preston, donned a grey suit with matching grey pants, and midnight black tie contrast against the white shirt. God, he'd changed so much since the presidential campaign. I was not looking at the nerd, son of a candidate who ran for president. No, it was Preston Winters, son of US ambassador for Italy (the one I met last fall), a particularly _hot _nerd.

Damn it, what was I thinking? Of all the hot guys I've met, my eyes drawn to _him_?

But heck, seriously. He _was_ really hot in this party. Too bad he didn't know his dad was… well…

"Honey, don't you think it would be better for us to socialize? I mean, in this kind of society, I'd like to think it's best if we have lots of allies, don't you think?" Zach said from next to me, his eyes looking at me like a proper boyfriend should. Although, I puked inwardly.

Again, a thousand times sorry, Cam.

"Sure. How about," I tapped my chin, and looked around the room. "That one. The guy in grey? I think he's around our age. Would be best if we start with the one that will understand us better, wouldn't it?" I said, replying still in Italian.

Zach nodded with a smile, then led me across the ballroom. He intentionally elbowed Grant on the way, letting him know we're on our way.

"I'd watch my way if I were you," he called out, sounded a bit annoyed. Meaning: code successfully received.

The boy next to me turned around and snorted, just to properly respond like any other people would do. As we made our way to Preston, I noticed the scanner in my contacts was beeping red constantly. Meaning: the bad guys were swarming around us, which equal to: _not good_.

It's about now or never.

But we did make it to Preston, who was seemingly enjoying himself with a glass of wine.

Zach cleared his throat, and he turned to us. His eyebrows rose up to his forehead, before he lowered them again and frowned. "I'm sorry, but have we ever met? It seems like, I don't know. There's something familiar about you two."

I smiled sweetly and leaned closer, "Oh, I believe we have. Just in a different—how do we place it?—_occasion_."

He shook his head slightly, brows furrowed, clearly indicating he's trying to remember. "Ah, I'm sorry. I can't recall it. Would you mind re-introduce yourself, miss...?"

"Melinda," I said with a seductive smile, then leaned even more closer—somehow (for a part of me) much to my dismay, but the other part of me seemed to be jumping upside down—and whispered ever so quietly, "McHenry."

And there. I dropped the bomb. Preston stood gaping at us, taking us in up to toe. "Wha- I mean, oh, Melinda! Of course. I'm so sorry for not remembering. There are so many people I've met, it seems like you've slipped my mind somehow. But I'll make sure I won't forget again next time." I inwardly thanked him for playing along. He smiled back, although I saw confusion, mixed with curiousity all swimming in his eyes.

Then his eyes strayed to Zach behind me… oh crap. "Oh, I'm sorry. And this is my boyfriend, Jason William."

Both shook each other's hand politely, but then I noticed Preston eyed Zach more closely than before. Did I mention there's a strange gleam in his eyes, too? "Do you have a time, Mr. Winters? I'd like to have a word regarding… you know, the arrangement my father's company and you we've talked about before. Can we?" I gestured to a balcony outside, one that overlooked the street of Rome. Catching on the hint (thank God), Preston nodded. "Of course."

"Peacock, Eagle. One Dev is suspicious. He's taking out his phone. Exactly twelve o'clock. You'd better be quick." Cammie echoed in our ears.

Shit.

I tugged on Zach's arms a little more urgently to the balcony. Him, certainly heard what Cammie said quickly strided along just as fast.

"Fake on a casual expression, can you?" I asked Preston, and he nodded in response. Still in shock, I guess.

I turned to look at Zach, but he gave me a gesture with his hand. "Go ahead."

Right. This was my job. "So, Preston, we don't have much time. I need you to listen to me carefully, alright? Remember about the Circle of Cavan we talked about in fall? Summer Cammie was telling you about in summer?"

Preston frowned, "Sure. What's the matter? Are they-"

"Yes." I cut him off quickly. Zach was leaning against the railing, facing the room. Acting as an eye, I see. Smart.

"You see, Cammie got the list of the people that are destined to be the heirs of the Circle. And your dad… well, he's one of them."

His eyes widened in an instant, jaw dropped to the floor. "What you're saying is… that my dad, he's a…" he trailed off, his breaths ragged from shock. Sadly, I nodded. "Terrorist."

Just as I predicted, he shook his head furiously. "No. No way. I've known him since I was born. There's no way he could be, he-"

Suddenly, Bex's voice that previously was muffled since she only talked pointlessly came into my hearing. "Honey, how grandeur this party is, don't you think? I mean, look at the guest! They're still coming, nonetheless."

Guests. More coming. The Circle agents.

"Yes, dear. But I do think that it is normal, given how elegant this party is. Besides, there are only seven of them. Not supposed to be a big deal." Grant replied. Silly Grant, of course it _was _a big deal.

But nonetheless, seven more agents coming. That's our cue. Quickly, I tore off a pearl from my dress—one that Liz had specifically inserted a tracking chip into it—and slipped it into Preston's breast pocket. "You might not believe us, Preston. But please, do not lose that pearl. Whatever happened, keep that with you. When you're in emergency or something, press it. That'll trigger the panic button installed within."

"Melinda, we've got to go." Zach said urgently, tugging on my arm. I gave Preston one more apologetic look before I turned around.

Only, it was too late.

Three men in black suit, each holding one gun, stepped forward and kicked the door closed. I heard Preston suck a deep breath behind me, but I was too preoccupied to even think about it twice.

"Define yourself and what do you want," one man snapped, his gun trained on me while the other two trained on Zach. Underestimating a girl, huh? Let see about that in several minutes from now.

"We're just talking about business here with Mr. Winters. What's the matter?" Zach asked, his hands up in the air already. To my view, Zach looked like a little kid scared of a ghost. His face was paper-white, his shoulders hunched, and if I didn't know better I would have thought Zach was seriously scared.

No way in hell Zachary Goode is scared.

"Liar." The man calmly replied, and for a split second I saw his finger moved, then without thinking, I kicked Zach hard in the groin. He fell, causing the bullet to miss. Preston's audible gasp was seriously _loud_, but that was what pulled me out of my shock to see blood slowly dripping out Zach's shirt.

In an instant, all of my training and instinct kicked in. I swept under their feet in one swift motion—with my dress trailing closely behind my feet—and the man who shot Zach fell to the ground, hitting one of his men along. Another gunshot, but I was already prepared.

I then remembered the secret weapon Liz had successfully smuggled: inside my high-wedged shoes. Guess what those were? Yes. Guns, even more deadly than the ones those men held.

The crowd of the party had quieted down, due to the gunshots I guess. I aimed the wedges towards the men, and all of them laughed. "Really, lady? That-"

Before they could even finish, another gunshot (okay, three actually), and their eyes rolled to the ground.

Screams pierced from the ballroom just as I fired my guns (not loaded with real bullets, believe me. Just a darts that had been soaked into the same liquid like those chemical stuff in napotine patches) and below, police officers started to swarm the embassy.

They're kind of exaggerating, really. The guns Liz made for me were basically dart guns, only modified, and the sound it produces is no different than the one those fireworks have as they're launched to the air. These high society people are kind of overreacting, which something I don't actually foreign with.

"Time to go, Mel." Zach said, pocketing the guns these men had as he walked up to me. I nodded, swinging my dress around to remove the lower part. As if on cue, the door burst open, with four more men in black suits behind it. I waved flirtatiously before throwing the skirt of my dress above them, and poisonous gas started to rise up around them. Not really poisonous, actually. Just enough to knock those men unconscious for one whole hour. Enough to buy us so many precious time.

Not thinking straight, I followed Zach and jumped over the railing with so much as a mere glance for precaution. I heard Preston shout my name—shit, my _real _name—but I didn't even look back once. My hands quickly found something to hold on to, first the bottom of the railing, then the ledges on the water wall right above the fountain under the balcony. Glad that I didn't have my heels on again, since that would be deadly to wall-climbing with. But they're still firm on the belt around my waist, thank goodness. Otherwise I would be completely unarmed. My precious gown was gone—yes, those pearls adorning my gown were containing some _light _gases, and my high-wedged shoes were modified to hide one gun each. The latter were just my last weapons available.

Quietly, we snuck out of the embassy trying to go unnoticed as we could. Behind the fountain, though, Zach had turned his jacket and wig inside-out (yes, the wig had two sides, thanks to me), tore off the sleeve of his shirt to cover up the gash in his arms (despite how hard I kicked him earlier, it wasn't hard enough to prevent the bullet from grazing his arm). He now seemed casual: a regular (blond-haired) pedestrian coming home from work rather than a guest at the embassy party. I followed him suit, switching my wig inside-out (I hate being a blonde), and pulling out a sheer ankle-length black skirt along with white button down to cover my upper body.

What we left untouched were our lenses. Apart from the disguises, we still needed the face-scanner.

Now that we're more aware of it, I realized that our comms had gone silent.

"Zach, is your comm…?" He seemed to just realize it as well, as he shook his head in horror. "No. Shit. Bookworm, Cyber, you hear me?" He whispered silently, but no response. He didn't mention Chameleon though, thankfully. Even her codename, people in our world seem to know. Which let me tell you: is definitely _not _a good thing if you're being the Chameleon herself. Cammie surely wouldn't like it.

Now I began to panic. We lost contact. Our comms weren't functioning. We're still in the embassy, and we could just hop the gate and leave, but something told me it wasn't a very good idea.

"We leave. Right now. Come on, I have a bad feeling about staying here for too long." Zach urged me, his hand guided the small of my back, lightly shoving me forward.

"But I also have a bad feeling if we leave! How about Bex and Grant?" I argued, not wanting to abandon my own instinct because, well, as a spy, instinct is one of the very few you can trust.

His lips were pulled into a tight line before he spoke, "I trust Grant enough to defend himself while keeping Bex safe. Not like Bex will need that, but still. And Macey, do you _not _have a bad feeling that our comms are not functioning? We have like, the best brainiacs in the world! How on earth our comms suddenly malfunctioning if there isn't something wrong happened to them? To _Cammie_?" He stressed the last word, although it looked like it affected him more than it did to me.

I didn't have a choice. Besides, Zach was right (he always is). Bex and Grant could defend themselves. As far as we knew, their covers hadn't blown up yet, so they could still continue their show as party guests until they could leave in safety. For now, Cammie, Jonas, and Liz were our first priority.

So we took off, leaving the embassy behind with no one noticed.

Little did I know back then, Preston did notice us, up from the balcony.

* * *

_**A/N: **Okay, there you go! Finally the mission. More actions coming up! Though, I apologize for the update will not be in two days from now (in case you haven't noticed, I update every two days), because I've decided to expand it to chapter 5 and it's kind of hard to write. So... what do you guys think of the mission so far?  
_


	4. Four

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything except my imaginations and flaws and... nothing._

**_A/N:_**_ Sorry for the mistakes (again). I really wanted to get this one out, so... yeah. I'll do a proofread later when I get the chance alright. Meanwhile, feel free to point them out! :)_

* * *

The crowd in front of the Embassy was large, much to our advantages. Easily, we blended into the crowd, slipping in and out among people who were talking in rapid Italian. Police men swarmed the Embassy as the guests were all ushered out, and before we exited the gate, I caught a glimpse of Bex and Grant, standing with wild eyes among the guests. They're looking for us.

But we didn't stop. Zach kept his gait steady _and _fast, as if the bleeding bullet graze in his arm felt nothing, maneuvering through the street packed with people toward where the limo was. But not long after, a static burst in our comms as the voice of our beloved surveillance team came back to life.

Upon hearing this, Zach quickly pulled out his (okay, it's actually mine) untraceable phone as a cover, and put it in his ear. "What happened?" He snarled. I quickened my pace to match his (which, let me tell you, had never faltered even one bit) while listening to their conversation through my own comm.

"Jonas detected someone was trying to track

us. Our best guess is they found out they're being watched, and we don't want to risk anything so Jonas disconnected the connection first before they had the chance to do anything further. We're afraid they're trying to track us and our location down, so we have to lose them first." Cammie explained, and right then I admitted: the brains they (I still don't know did _they _mean the Circle or the Embassy?) had were pretty awesome to track down a hacker like that.

Zach stopped in his track, then turned to me as he continued to talk. "Now what are we going to do?" He asked, as I faintly heard Bex's and Grant's voice joined back our conversation.

"What are you- oh God. You two, go back to the Embassy. Preston is cornered with five Devs. I think he's freaking out," Cammie said urgently.

"What?"

Only later I realized, it was me who said that.

There was a shuffling sound in our comms as we listened to Cammie and Liz and Jonas debating about something we couldn't really catch on. Then Cammie's voice was clear as day when the shuffling stopped and she said,

"Eagle, Peacock, go back to the spot. Duchess, Soldier, lose your covers and back them up. The Subject is being cornered, more Devs are spotted coming to the Embassy. Retrieve The Subject, we'll be there by the time you guys are finished."

Without Cammie had even finished her sentence, Zach and I were already running back to where we came from, heading to the Embassy. But then Bex's voice almost made us stop. Almost.

"Oh, honey, look. The embassy is off-limit now. Think it's our time to leave?"

The Embassy was closed. Off-limit. There's no way we could sneak back in.

"Such a shame. The party hasn't gone on very long. But alas, yes, I think it is indeed time to leave." Grant responded.

Zach pulled back out his phone, pretending on punching some numbers before putting it in his ears. "Where to now? You heard them."

More shuffling in the background as we continued to run. The Embassy had come into view, and before Cammie or Liz or Jonas even got the chance to respond, I remembered something. "The back alley," I whispered. Zach stopped, his brows shot up. "The what?"

Cammie squealed. "She's right! The back alley, Zach. Remember where you found me sleepwalking that night?"

It was as if a light bulb had gone off in his head. "Yes," Zach replied, pulling me faster. In my ear, Cammie kept droning on her newest plan.

"There's a fire escape, far in the end of the alley. Go up there, and-"

But Zach cut her off. "The fire escape door can only be opened in emergency, remember? If we open it, we're going to set off the alarm. Which, in case you-"

Yet Cammie didn't even seem to hear him as she cut him back off, "Actually, I was going to tell you that from the fire escape, you can climb up to the roof, to a rooftop door which is locked with a mere regular lock I'm pretty sure you can easily pick on."

We took a turn right beside the Embassy and ran down to far end of the alley. The fire escape was already in sight, and I raced to mount the iron stairs with Zach following closely behind.

Once we reached the landing, I exchanged glances with Zach before he nodded, then pressed a button on his belt—hard—before a small anchor-like thing launched far up until the rooftop, stuck firmly on the concrete wall (a limited-edition tool made by Liz. And let me tell you, at first I doubted its function. Now I'm thankful Liz wouldn't budge on letting that belt off of me.). Faintly, I heard Cammie giving instruction to Bex and Grant, but it was out of my hearing as I pressed the button on my own belt, and tugged on it the same time as Zach. In no time, we were hurling up to the air, and landed effortlessly on the roof of US Embassy for Rome. Yes. That easy.

Except like I said, everything is never as it seems.

As Zach was about to pick the lock, I heard Jonas shouted, "No!"

We froze. "What is it?" Zach hissed, his voice cracking with worry.

Jonas voice was deadly calm as he whispered the next sentence. "Do not. Pick. The lock."

Slowly, Zach backed off, away from the door and stood beside me. "Then where-" he trailed off.

His eyes fixated on something, a black square in the corner of the rooftop, and at the same time he whispered, "The ventilation system." I heard Cammie said the same thing over the comm.

Admit it, they're cute like that.

"Zach, you remember the way? Jonas has put the map of the building in your lenses' database. Should be accessible by now." Cammie asked. I blinked three times—way to switch what we wanted to see in our lenses, and soon a 3D diagram of the entire building appeared in my contact lenses, replacing the prior face-scanner. The diagram pretty much showed us a red dot near the middle, two blue dots at the front of the building, and two green dots up over the top. The green: obviously us. Blue: Bex and Grant. Red: Preston.

Zach went over to the ventilation shaft, discarding his suit jacket (guess what? Yes. He gave that to me. The disadvantage of being a girl with a constant handbag-slash-tiny-backpack in hand.), and pulled up the lid. He lied down on his stomach right on the edge of the shaft, then looked up at me as he put on his adhesive gloves. "You ready, McHenry?"

I rolled my eyes as I strapped my own gloves. "I'll take that as a rhetorical question. Go."

He smirked his trademark smirk before crawling down slowly on the shaft, me following behind him. My job wasn't to memorize the map, it was Zach's and Cammie's, hence our arrangement this way.

According to my lenses (and the conversation over the comms I listened a few moments prior), Bex and Grant seemingly were crawling on similar ventilation shafts, only from the lower stories of the building.

"Green, stop," Liz's quiet voice stopped us dead on our track, and I held my breath. I then heard Zach whispered, "Heat detector."

Great. They even had a heat detector in the ventilation system. How paranoid does that sound?

"Green, you're clear. Go ahead."

It was a little bit annoying, though, the diagram in my lenses. I blinked twice, and it turned back to a normal lenses for a while. After all, that's why I had Zach in front of me, right?

Our comms were somewhat silent as we trudged further into the shafts. Along the way, the security measures Liz had managed to find constantly showing up. They're mostly only heat detectors and lasers, thankfully. And our dear Liz and Jonas were easily able to turn them off.

To say that my back didn't hurt for crawling in a long, narrow shaft would be a total lie. I seriously wanted to complain, but Zach was of course going to be irritated, so I shut my mouth up and suck it off.

**The Pros and Cons of Crawling in A Ventilation Shaft of US Embassy by Operative McHenry (and later, helped by Operative Baxter)**

**CON: your back would definitely hurt because the shaft is (very) long and narrow.**

**PRO: it's safer than waltzing in straight from the front door. Obviously.**

**CON: THE DIRT. THE DUST. THE STALE AIR.**

**PRO: maybe it's because of the eliteness of the embassy (or apparently just because of the air-conditioning), even in the ventilation it undoubtedly felt cool.**

**CON: IT'S A VENTILATION SHAFT AFTER ALL. DO YOU NEED TO ASK HOW SUCKISH IT WAS?**

Even Bex and Grant weren't talking. At all. And that's saying something because neither Bex or Grant is the type of person who could shut their mouth up in a long time.

But the silence didn't last long. Soon, Jonas' panic voice filled our ears. "The Subject's father is closing range. I repeat, The Subject's father is closing range!"

Without saying a word, Zach crawled faster, so did I. "Put the recording on comms, can you?" I whispered, and soon all of us could hear what's happening with Preston, wherever he was.

"Father, is this really necessary?"

"You should have known by now son, protocol is always necessary."

"Yeah, well, I don't think aiming five guns on your son is _that _necessary."

"Now tell me. Who were you with on the balcony?"

"Your guests, obviously."

"Who are they?"

"They said they're the ones responsible for the arrangement you've planned out with them."

"What arrangement?"

I swear, by that time, Samuel Winters did not sound like the man The Senator that I unfortunately call my father once worked with. Nor was he the one I met almost frequently in my junior year. To be precise, he sounded like a bad guy (literally).

"They didn't mention it. They just said _the_ arrangement."

"What are their names?"

"Melinda and Jason William."

Inwardly, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding on. Thank goodness Preston wasn't as stupid as he seemed to be the first time I met him. He knew how to play a cover now. He knew our identities are not something he could bluntly spread to the whole world.

"How old are they?"

"Late twenty, I guess."

There was a faint snort. "And let me tell you, son. The youngest invitee of this party is thirty-eight. Now tell me. Who are they?"

"I don't know! They just told me that. They're Melinda and Jason William. That's it. Why does it bother you so much? Back home, you know party-crasher isn't something very unusual. Besides, they didn't make a scene or destroy the party, did they?"

"Oh, so you're siding with them."

"They're nice, father. One time finally people attempt on really talk to me."

"Oh, are they really?"

"What are you so worried about, anyway?"

"You have no idea what's going on in the world right now, son."

"Like what? A terrorist organization is now on full force?"

I skidded to a halt. Stupid. He wasn't supposed to say that.

Then I noticed how Zach had stopped completely as well. He glanced back to me, face remained stony, but his eyes wide with fear.

"We're close." I heard Grant whispered in our ears. "Five men. One Samuel Winters. We could take 'em."

Of course he could.

Apparently, my team partner had another idea. "No." Zach hissed. "You wait for us. The more odds in our favor, the better. We're closing in as well."

And he continued crawling faster, or as fast as possible in a bloody narrow shaft.

There's a gasp in our comms—Liz's—and it took all in me to not freeze on my spot again and try to listen whatever happened in the room we're heading to. Then Samuel's voice came back to our ears.

"What. Did. They. Tell. You?"

"Nothing. Why are you so freaked out about? Did I say something wrong?"

"The terrorism. Who told you that?"

Honestly, for a potential head of international terrorist organization, Samuel Winters was pretty stupid to use that line in an interrogation.

"It was just a random thought! No one told me anything. I was joking,"

"No you weren't. Tell me. Who are they? And do not even attempt on lying, Preston. I know a lie when I see it."

Which is a little exaggerating because Preston had been lying since the first time he walked in.

"I'm not lying to you!"

A slap echoed. And if I weren't a spy, I probably would have shrieked or something in surprise. Samuel Winters slapped his own son. Samuel Winters…

Zach stopped in front of me, his hand in the air as if telling me to stop. I turned back on my lenses, and soon enough, the diagram reappeared. True, now the blue and green dots were right above the red, the blue ones right across from us.

Slowly, Zach pulled open the similar lid like the one up on the roof, smoothly without a single sound.

"On three." Bex.

"One," I breathed.

"Two," Zach continued.

"Three." Grant finished, and we dropped down in unison into the room, running in full speed and knocking down one men each. The other seemed surprised, but didn't take long before he recovered and started to aim.

But in one swift motion, Bex had kicked the gun out of his hand (also out of his reach because she smoothly caught the gun like a pro). I didn't exactly know what was happening, but everything occurred so fast.

Then I remembered why we're here. I turned to Preston who was still in shock and shouted, "Hide!"

He blinked before nodding and fled the fight to who-knows-where.

There obviously were some kickings, punchings, yellings, screamings, and I even saw Samuel Winters did the dirty work as well. He was against the boys, while the four out of five gunmen had been already taken care of by me and Bex.

We went to help the boys with Samuel and one of his gunmen, but in that time, I regretted what I did.

Because one of the most important lessons in self-defense: never turn your back on your enemy.

One of them rose and got me in a headlock, his arms around my throat—tight. No kidding, those hands were seriously like made to cut off the air supply into my lungs, because the next second I was gasping for air while my hands and legs flailed around trying to beat up the guy behind me. Bex was already in to another fight, so there's no way I could call for help. It's now up to only me, myself, and I.

Another lesson I got from that night: the Circle's got pretty good agents.

But not good enough.

Because the next moment I knew, there's a loud bang and the arms around my neck went slack. It was just for a split second, one freaking split second to my advantage and I switched our position the other way around. My hands went around the man's neck, locking him in a headlock as he thrashed in a similar way as I did, only without much of an effect aside from pushing me away from my friends, far to the dark corner of the room. As my back hit the wall, I saw Preston came from my right, a short golf stick in hand. Just a second before he slammed the stick to the man's face, I ducked away and let Preston took over for a while to catch my breath. Once the man stumbled backwards, I sent a blow square on his eyes. Then another, in his jaw. Another two on each side of his face, and he crumpled to the ground, unmoving.

I turned back around, only to find Preston gasping lightly, eyes wide with mixed emotions all swam in them as he looked up an locked his gaze with mine. Right then, I saw them all: fear, surprise, pride, relief.

Maybe it was because of the circumstances. Or because the girl in me felt like it was no more time to wait. Or the _screw it _voice inside me to be the reason why I shoved him into a dark corner of the room (which frankly was behind a wooden tall closet) and kissed him hard on his mouth. (Because let's face it: I was too breathless to utter a single _thank you_ but apparently, not for kissing.)

It was just for a short moment I kissed him. But apparently, in that short moment my guard was down, I missed a party.

Because when I turned around, all my friends were all having their backs against each other, five more Devs (in case you haven't noticed, that's the code for COC Agents) closing in, a woman I had a feeling I'd seen before (let me tell you, her figure outline was somewhat familiar) leaning on the door frame, a dark shadow casted on her face and blocked my clear view to see who she was.

Right then I noticed, our comms were silent. I recalled (I swear I won't let my guard down even a little on a mission ever again after that) there was a faint static burst in the middle of the fightings, and I suspected we lost the connection to our surveillance team again.

The woman then stepped out of the shadow as I finally found out now who she was. "Well, here I thought I've raised my son better than to be a mere party-crasher."

* * *

_So, what do you think? Who's the woman? The first two persons who guess it right can get a sneak peak!_


	5. Five

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing except my imagination. Not even Zachary Goode. Sadly, no._

* * *

"Who's-"

I clasped my hand in Preston's mouth, glaring dagger at him. He swallowed hard, then nodded in understanding as I craned my neck back to see what's happening, all the while pressing my body against the boy in front of me further into the shadow.

Under different circumstances, I probably would have blushed by our (extremely) close proximity, but then, it wasn't just any circumstances we were having.

"Catherine," Zach spat, his voice thick with venom as if he wasn't talking to the woman who gave birth to him. Not like I would act differently if I were him. Everyone would hate her if they had that woman as a mother.

"Hello, sweetheart," she looked at the people in the room (excluding me and Preston, seeing how her back was against us). "Oh, did you break up with your sweet little Cammie, Zachary?"

Upon hearing that, I could clearly see Zach was totally furious. "Why do you think I would ever lose the only person in the world I care the most, and cares for me the same way?"

To that, her mother's brows rose up as if she just saw the doubt in Zach's eyes. "Oh, does she really?"

Somehow, I know not knowing your feelings and your lover's affection to you could be dangerous like this. And I also know that Zach and Cammie had never told each other how exactly they feel for each other, and frankly, that kind of doubt could be a loophole for someone else to slip in. And people like Catherine surely would use that to her advantage.

Luckily, Bex cut in. "She does care for him the same way, stupid. Are you blind? Oh, wait. You just bloody blinded by that blood lust of yours to even _see _anything else."

Zach turned, gratitude flashed in his eyes for a split second before it was gone. Catherine narrowed her eyes toward her, but didn't say anything as she continued to glower on them (Bex told me.)

A static burst in our comms, and I prayed for God that Cam and Liz and Jonas got everything covered.

"God, sorry guys. Someone tried to track us down again. Had to cut down the connection anyhow. Look, can you hold her up for another, let's just say, twenty more minutes?"

Nobody answered Cammie in the comms because the answer was obvious: we would try (and also given the circumstances that we're talking with _the _Catherine Goode over here, obviously).

But the problem was, we didn't exactly have twenty minutes. Catherine could strike in with whatever plan she had up her sleeves. We didn't even know how many backups she'd brought with her, aside from the five men with their guns which they could pull the trigger anytime by now, and why was she here anyway?

Yet again, nobody said thay aloud. But Zach, as if he had just heard my mind asked, "what are you even doing here? Shouldn't you be out there, I don't know, chasing after the Circle's officials maybe?"

In our ears, I could hear Cammie keep on saying, "Good question, Zach. Keep going,"

But it was barely thirty seconds later when Liz's quiet, worried voice echoed in our comms. "Guys? I think someone's tailing us again."

A shuffling. Jonas and Liz debating in the distance. Then Cammie's voice. "Lose it, Liz!"

"I've been doing exactly that for the past thirty minutes! We lost them six times, but they keep on catching up on us." Liz screeched, obviously panicking.

The others in the room kept on stalling Catherine, despite having one gun trained on each of them (I felt bad for not being there), Preston's father remained still in Grant's inescapable headlock.

"We've lost the tail. Guys, keep stalling them. We'll be there right in ten minutes."

Thank God. But again, we didn't exactly have ten minutes. And how about the fact that we hadn't counted how long it would take for them to come up here?

"We didn't really have that much," I whispered in low voice, so low that even if the room wasn't that big, nobody would hear that.

"Ah, shit!" Jonas cursed loudly I had to blink. So Jonas can curse?

"It's a dead end." Liz's small voice sounded even smaller right then.

"That limo you're driving has a freaking GPS," I hissed.

There's hesitancy in Jonas' voice when he said, "Well, our tailers have one, too."

"Quick! Liz, lock all doors and windows and-"

"No, wait. Jonas, they're- well technically they're with us, if they aren't furious right now. Just- roll down the window."

Being on comms without actually seeing what was happening on the other side of the line kind of sucked. But there was no other choice aside from wait.

"Look who's got themselves in Rome," A voice chimed in.

Townsend? What on earth was he doing in Rome?

And then, something else surprised me. A voice I would know everywhere chimed in, I could even imagine the owner cocked her hips with her eyebrows raised as she said, "your vehicular antisurveillance techniques were pretty good," Pause. "And nice tactic on losing the signal for us to track you down. But not good enough." Townsend finished for her.

Abby.

With Townsend.

"You're the one who tried to track us down?" Liz sounded shocked, which actually wasn't very perplexing since Abigail Cameron and Edward Townsend aren't really people to underestimate _at all_.

"Where are the others? And who is this?" Abby asked, ignoring Liz's question and apparently asking who Jonas is. A brief silence filled the air before Cammie answered, "This is Jonas. Zach's best friend. While the others... well I won't tell you story verbatim because we're kind of in an urgent situation, so... shortly they're now stuck in the Embassy with Zach's evil mom and Preston's father and some of the Circle agents, I guess."

Then nothing. Utter silence. And let me tell you, Abby's silence is worse than her anger. Silence is equal with fury, which equal to her anger multiplied by a hundred.

And when Abby's voice came back, it sounded eerie and not the joyful, flirty Abigail Cameron I know. "I guess? Really, Cammie? God. Liz, the Embassy, fastest route. Now. Cam, give me and Townsend each a unit. Townsend, tail. Here, catch"

And then Abby's voice was all over our comms as the sound of screeching tires carried in the distance. "Tell me what they've got."

"I've got the upper hand," I decided to chime in. "Catherine only sees Zach and Bex and Grant. She doesn't know I'm here. The Subject's safe with me. Or as safe as we could ever be."

In front of me, Preston frowned in worry, so I opted to mouth, _we've got this_.

He merely nodded grimly in response, then stayed still like he was before.

"Weapons?" Townsend asked.

"Two dart guns."

"And what is it loaded with?"

"Darts, obviously, but with the addition of soaking them in napotine patches' chemical liquid."

Townsend didn't say anything afterwards, but I swear I could hear him smile through the comms.

"Good. Now, can you disarm all those people inside with that?" Abby spoke up.

"Are you underestimating me?"

She laughed. "No. I wouldn't dare."

I went to get my pump-slash-dart-gun ready before something popped in my head. "Hey, wait, how about Zach's mom and Preston's father?" I asked, suddenly aware of the presences of the most dangerous people in the room.

This time, Abby and Townsend replied in unison. "Shoot 'em."

I smiled, then took aim. Behind me, I could hear Preston took a sharp breath as I pulled the trigger six times, knocking down the entire men but unfortunately, excluding Catherine.

Maybe because she was trained like us, a Gallagher Girl, she had a very good reflex. She ducked out of the way and my dart missed her by an inch. I rolled my eyes, then shot Preston's father before turning back to Catherine and her mischievous gaze.

"Look who do we have here, Macey McHenry and ah, the heir."

I narrowed my eyes, and aim the gun back to her. "Tell me why shouldn't I pull this trigger? Oh, no, nevermind. I should anyway."

My finger pulled the trigger again, yet Catherine was ready. She rolled down and the dart stuck in the wall as I grunted with frustration. I looked towards my team partners as they moved and circled around Zach's mom. One against three. I bet Catherine wouldn't stand a chance. Because, come on, one woman versus one Gallagher Girl and two Blackthorne Boys? Nope. She's dead.

Well, except about the fact that the woman was a Gallagher Girl, too.

I turned back to Preston and snapped, "You stay there. Don't. Go. Anywhere." Which got a frantic nod in response as his eyes strayed to the slumped body of his father on the floor across the room. Right, _I _shot _his father_.

The gun in my hand was still up in the air, ready to shoot in anytime Bex or Grant or Zach got Catherine handled well.

The comms were frantic, but I didn't catch on whatever the rest of our friends out there were saying. Not to mention Abby snapping in the background and Townsend's occasional grunts mixed with God-knows-what they were doing. Besides, the fight before me needed more attention than our surveillance team, because, well they'd gotten Abby and Townsend with them. While we got… no one.

Really, if only Catherine was not an evil woman, I'd like to think she would be an awesome teacher in Gallagher Academy. Especially in P&E. Seriously, her moves were admittedly amazing. I mean, who else could handle being attacked by one of the best teenage-spy-in-training whom is the most coordinated and flawless person in P&E I've ever known, and two boys who attended school for assassins? (Zach said it's not something he's proud of, but duh, that's not the point.)

It felt like forever. If I weren't a spy, my hands were probably already giving out right now for stretching out for so long. Bex was already sent flying and hitting the floor a few times, but she wasn't Bex if she did not stand back up as if nothing happened and re-charged forward over and over again. I had to admit, her energy was endless.

The bruises in Zach's and Grant's face (and their other showing skin I could see) were getting more and more prominent, but never did they once falter.

Only a few moments later (my internal clock was kind of unreliable at that moment, due to the pressure and unconducive situation to think clearly), the door that was kicked close somewhere during the fight burst open, Abby and Townsend running in and joined the fight. And they really did just that without even blinking an eye or did a double take or whatever to take in the situation.

But Abby did glance over to me and shout, "Why haven't you done that already?"

I grimaced at her hostile tone and shouted back, "it's complicated!"

And then it wasn't Abby who replied afterwards but Townsend, with a line I recognized from a time that felt like a lifetime ago. "Then uncomplicate it!"

I took aim again, sucking a deep breath while doing so. _It's now or never, it's now or never, it's now or never,_ I kept chanting inwardly. Gallagher Girl cannot be known from her imperfection. There's no way I could fail this. I had to successfully do it. What is so difficult anyway from aiming a dart gun towards a man woman, pulled the trigger, and demolished her altogether?

Let me tell you: everything is—was—difficult.

If only Catherine was a civilian. If only Catherine wasn't Catherine_ Goode_. I would have done that without difficulties. But then, if only I was that lucky.

Because the next split second Catherine caught a glimpse of me aiming the gun higher, following her every movements, she did something none of us expected. She did a Vane Maneuver in such a perfect way I envied her, knocking down Abby and Townsend and Zach and Grant and Bex who were all standing around her, much to her advantage to do _that _bloody maneuver even Bex hadn't perfected yet (though, she vowed to perfect it once we're all done with all this crap).

And then she. Goddamn. Fled.

I'd pulled the trigger. I did. But she foresaw my movements and dodged the (countless) darts I frantically sent flying in her direction.

She. Dodged. Them. All.

And right before she disappeared into the darkness of the Embassy, we all heard her shout, "We are not done here!"

Of course we weren't.

But as I stood there, dumfounded, realizing that I freakishly failed to merely shoot a goddamn dart gun towards a mad woman (who was able to pull of the Vane Maneuver…), another realization dawned on me. It's over.

I took a look at the others in the room. Preston, still in the dark corner of the room, looking terrified than ever. Bex, holding her head with Grant by her side, rubbing her back (it would be cute if we weren't in this kind of situation). Zach cursing in ten different languages that sounded suspiciously about him going to kill Catherine with his own hands next time (which left me feel guilty all the time I remember this). Abby who seemed to be sulking and cursing in Russian, Spanish, Farsi, and Swahili all respectively over and over again. Townsend, typing furiously in his phone, probably calling for his buddy from MI6 nearby. After all, the unconscious people in this room weren't common criminals, and they could even be a good assets for Townsend's lifetime mission: tracking down every single agent of the Circle.

* * *

We trudged out to the fire escape in silence once Townsend got the news that his colleagues were already on the scene, and found Jonas holding the door half opened.

"It'll trigger the alarm if it's fully opened." He explained, as if reading our slightly confused expression upon seeing him.

Townsend was the last one out, as he turned back to Jonas who was carefully closing the door. "I thought you've got it taken care of?"

Jonas shrugged in response. "Well, you guys were in such a hurry that I could only finish it halfway through, and when you left, I had no one to hold the door for me while I worked, so that only left me with one option. Hold the door half opened and wait."

"You poor little guy," Grant purred, and none of us could help it but crack a smile.

It'd been a long day. A very, very, long day and we wanted nothing but the comfort of a bed or anything of sorts.

* * *

Cammie was waiting behind the wheel anxiously, glancing up every so often that when she finally caught a glimpse of us—with Preston as well—her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Jonas then gestured for her to switch, since he's always the one who drove, and she obliged without a single protest.

Relief was written all over her face as we one by one piled into the limo. We did not even care about the limo's backseat six-persons-capacity, and seated ourselves comfortably inside (or as comfortable as it might be when a six-persons-seat occupied with eight people instead, including two grown-ups as well). But once she caught the sight of Zach's bleeding arm, her face morphed into pure shock. "What on earth happened to you?" She gasped, taking a closer look at his arm. Zach glanced at me with a grateful smile, "just a bullet graze. Macey here managed to kick me hard just in time, only it wasn't hard enough. If it weren't for that, though, I would have died by now."

Her eyes were still wide with pure horror as she pulled a first-aid kit, and offered some ice-packs for the people with bruises and took care of Zach's wound.

"Mace, thank you." She said when she took turn to dab at my scratched hands. I shrugged, "Anytime. It was fun, anyway. Kicking _the_ Zachary Goode." I smirked, while the aforementioned person rolled his eyes.

I looked out to the street outside as the limo began to move. We did not move for another five minutes after we're inside, because the agents Townsend claimed as his friends hadn't finished clearing out the way yet (you can't exactly drive a limo out of a dark alley after an incident involving the US Ambassador without being suspicious after all).

But as we almost reached the end of the alley before we're back to the main road, I saw someone—no, two—leaning against the dark concrete. Two figures I sort of recognized from my winter break.

"Jonas, stop."

The car halted, and I smiled as the faces came into view. Abby seemed to recognize the people as well because she chuckled from the other side of the car. "Tell them I said hi, Mace. I can't exactly go out like this."

I saluted her before stepping outside, ignoring the what-do-you-think-you're-doings and Macey-don'ts and you-are-not-that-bloody-stupid-are-yous from my partners inside. Without looking back, I knew the window glasses were now rolled down as I strided towards my new friends over the break.

The boy tipped an imaginary hat to me with a ghost of smile on shadowed his face. "Macey."

I nodded back with the same smile. "Hale."

Then my gaze swept over the girl beside him, carrying a bag much bigger than her own body. "Hey, Kat."

A smile crossed her delicate face as she grinned. "Hey, Macey. Figured you'd be here. Just want to thank you and your team for your kind-of-sort-of help."

That earned a frown. "What help?"

Both of them smiled mischievously, "Because of your _scene_, we did not have to make one of our own." She said, patting the bag.

Then our last conversation replayed back on my mind as I remembered what she was going to do back then. "Oh, the Raphael. It's in the Embassy?"

Kat nodded with a smile. "And it's going to go back to its rightful owner in five days."

I laughed, "Nice to know. Oh, by the way," I paused, turning back to the limo. "Cam, this is Kat. Kat, Cammie. You guys are going to have a good time spending in air shafts."

Hale laughed, while Cammie frowned. "Is this- ooh. Right. Hi, Kat."

The girl before me gave a small wave. "Hi." Then she lowered her gaze, "Agent Cameron?"

Abby waved, "Please, just Abby. Hi, Kat. Sorry, kind of injured. Can't really go out right now."

Kat nodded, then turned back to me. "Kidnapping the Ambassador's son?"

I grinned, pointing to Preston. "Mission accomplished."

Both of them chuckled. "Good to know. Now, we should probably go. Nice meeting you again, Macey."

"Likewise, W. W. Hale. Where are you two going now?"

Hale shrugged. "France, dropping off this thing. Then back to New York."

My brows shot up as I heard how easy it sounded for him. "With what? Boats?"

With a poker face, Hale stared at me and pointed to himself (which eerily seemed quite similar like how Zach does it) then said, "Jet."

I shrugged, slightly amused of how I remembered myself saying the same thing in the P&E barn to my best friends some time ago. "Fair enough."

They smiled, then bid us another goodbye before disappearing into the night.

As we drove in silence towards the private airport where my (parents') jet would take us back to US, Preston blurted out one thing that had been on his mind probably since that time I jumped out of the balcony. "What happens to me now?"

None of us asked why he bother to ask that. Because let's face it, each of us would ask the same thing if we were on his shoes.

"You'll come with us."

It was Abby who answered him. Preston looked at her for a long time without so much as blinking his eyes, then sighed. "I guess I didn't have any other choice, huh? My father is surprisingly an undercover terrorist. My mother disappeared. It's not like I have another place to be."

"Your mother disappeared?" We all asked him in shock. Preston looked at each of us as if we're crazy, then shrugged. "Yeah. Yesterday, it's like she was kidnapped. But my dad didn't even freak out one damned bit so I guess it should have given me some kind of lead that my dad is… well, not a regular dad somehow."

Townsend patted his back. "We're going to find you a safe house. You're going to be fine, kid."

Note to self: it turned out Townsend can be nice too sometimes.

None of us said it aloud: Preston would not be coming with us. I guess it should be kind of obvious, seeing how the trustees were having a severe issue about who comes in and out of the mansion nowadays, regarding Cammie and Dr. Steve's incident. Since our mission isn't official, we knew that Preston wouldn't be able to really come along to Gallagher like Zach did. It's just that right then the realization dawned on us, that we really couldn't take him with us.

As if realizing it too, Preston looked at us with undecipherable gaze. "You guys are going to go back to Gallagher, aren't you?"

Reluctantly, we all nodded. "You know we're really sorry, Preston. We just don't want you to be dragged into the family business your father's into right now. We- we honestly didn't really think of how or where we're actually going to take you afterwards."

Again, his eyes swept over us as if taking us in, asking thing we did not expect, all the while ignoring our apology. "Why- why do you guys even care about that? I mean, I'm not particulary someone, and-" he stopped, his eyes locked with mine.

I was at loss, I didn't know what to answer. He knew I would have the answer, but truly, I had no idea what to say. I'm the closest one to him here, but still. Thankfully, though, Zach came to my rescue. "Because if you want to know how it feels like to be dragged into a family business you don't want to get into, believe me, it sucks."

Right. Zach was going to go through the same path Catherine did, had it he not met Joe eons ago.

Preston blinked, then it was as if something clicked in his mind. "That woman- she's your mother?"

Zach's face contorted into a scowl, mixed with disgusted expression upon hearing the word _mother_. I can totally relate to the feeling. "Unfortunately, yes, she was the damned woman who gave birth to me. But I don't really refer to her as my mother. Anyhow, you don't want to be a terrorist, do you?"

Preston gulped, then nodded. "Of course I don't."

I zoned everything out once the car zoomed past the Rome streets, and the heavy conversation died down. Although once in a while, I caught on hearing the conversation of how Jonas and Grant were planning on going back on the run, but Townsend and Abby decided it would be best if they accompany Preston on _his _run. And Grant & Jonas were more than happy to oblige. After all, in our world, who would refuse the assurance of food and safety and comfy beds on a particular run? The answer is obvious: no one.

Soon, silence was what engulfed us all once again. Although this time, the silence didn't feel sickeningly deafening like all those silences before the mission. Neither it was like the calm before a storm. This time, it felt actually calming. Because even though our operation of Taking Down Circle of Cavan was far from over (in fact, this is just the beginning), our first mission objective was a success.

And there's no way we would want to start our last semester in Gallagher Academy in any other way.

* * *

_**A/N: **__I also do not own Hale and Kat. And I added them in because I just couldn't resist… this isn't violating any rules, is it?_

_Anyway, do you guys want me to write a report from __**Cammie/Liz/Jonas's POV**__ about what happened when the fight with Catherine was occurring?_

_And… Dear God it's over. Oh my God thank you thank you thank you for you guys who reviewed in the previous chapters! And I was so surprised to see that much of reviews to chapter 4. You guys have no idea how thrilled I was! And anyway, you all guessed it correctly, it was Catherine! (Congrats to __**lilyroselilac123 **__and __**guest **__as the first two who guessed it right. Although I am so sorry for __**guest**__, I couldn't send the preview given the fact that I cannot know who you are…)_

_I would also like to thank __**wittykittylizzie **__and__** ailes du neige **__who have been sticking from the very start. I can't thank you enough for reviewing each chapter :)_

_Lastly, I want to thank each of the reviewers and readers out there for their time on reading my little story. You guys have no idea how much that means to me! And for the last time, is it too much to ask if I want to hear what do you guys think of this story? It's okay if you didn't review at all before, I just want to know what's on your mind. All constructive criticisms are welcomed with open arms._

_Right. I'm probably rambling right now and none of you are reading this anymore. But nonetheless, again, thank you a thousand thank yous for you guys! I love you all._

_-andin._


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